


Make Me Dance

by INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Inspired by Music, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-17 19:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20626457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon/pseuds/INeedMoreHadesBeforeISwoon
Summary: Never, in Hades' wildest dreams, could he have imagined Persephone would be willing to give his strangest fantasy a try....What happens when Persephone pries open the King's darkest desires...?





	Make Me Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Warning - mild aggressive and feral play within - nothing too violent, but definitely not tame vanilla. Slight Strange-form Intimacy aspects, including invisibility-play and temptation in the form of hovering out of reach....
> 
> This venture into writing an "inspired by" piece is also my second hot-and-bothered piece, the second I've ever written. It's inspired by the lyrics and sound of "Make Me Dance" by Wiyaala. Please watch the official Make Me Dance music video here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHmguMTdeew And if you like this one, go listen to Leno (This Place), and Siiko (Come, Let's Go). Siiko can be described as nothing less than an incredible dance-hall party track that defies attempts at remaining still....  
Siiko - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrnMBRPinlw  
Leno - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E1KdWpK4VXE  
I do not own the rights to either the characters or music - please support Ms. Smythe and Wiyaala!

"Hades, I want to ask you something."

"Just a moment, sweetness. Let me just finish this section." Hades gave a gentle smile in her direction, even though his eyes never left the pages of the report he held in one hand before his face. His glasses had slipped down his nose a smidge, which meant he had to tilt his head back a little to actually see what he was reading. Persephone continued just gazing at the lines of his face, feeling his breathing moving her body by inches at a time where she was tucked against his side. 

It had taken months before he had felt secure enough in her love to request something like a few minutes to finish what he was doing when she needed him for something else. Accidental burned pots and pans in the kitchen had finally clued her in that he would literally drop everything to avoid keeping her waiting. 

A few intentional "training" sessions, as she thought of them, had finally got through to him,

Asking for something non-urgent, knowing he was doing something else - like cooking - and as soon as she heard him rushing to her, hollering down the hall or around the doorway that he "better take his time," because she wasn't gonna die or leave or anything if she had to wait a minute for him. Each time he went back and got to an appropriate stopping place, she showered him with love, kisses, and all the pleasure he could handle in the bed that night. 

It didn't take many nights of mindless satisfaction before he took the hint. It was just a couple of weeks after that before he specifically began asking her, "Can it wait a second?" when she asked for something or hollered that she needed him. 

He did it so effortlessly now. She was proud of him. 

A flick of his fingers had the pages fluttering closed in the laminated folder. "Now, what did you need, love?" The folder landed on the coffee table in front of them, and the same hand brushed his glasses back up his nose. 

"I want you to answer a question, honestly, the first time."

"I never lie to you, sweetness." His eyes got worried behind his glasses, and she threw a mischievous smirk on her lips to ease his tension.

"But you sometimes dodge the question."

"Ohhhh. This is a bedroom question, is it?"

"Mmmhmmm. So, honest answer, first time?"

"I'll try, love. I'll do my best."

He swallowed a little. Her bedroom questions were always thrilling, but sometimes he couldn't help but feel embarrassed or awkward voicing things better left unsaid in the dark of soft sheets. He wondered where her curiosity would lead him this time. 

"Okay. I want to know what you were dreaming about last night. I know it was a sexy dream, don't deny it. But you seemed, ummm, put off by it, or too turned on by it and worried that I wouldn't like it. I want to know what it was about."

_shitshitshitshit!_

"Sweetness, ummmm, please no. I really don't think you'll like the answer."

"No dodging!"

"I'm trying! But it's not - gods - I don't even know why I dreamed it!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb, just below his glasses. A shuddering sigh escaped his lips, and she felt his pants draw tighter over his hips as his body reacted to whatever memories the dream had left him.

"I know why you dreamt it. Please, Aidoneus."

She flicked a finger over the tight pull of the waistband around his middle, feeling him flinch as the vibration ricocheted to his arousal. 

"Tell me.... Tell me what I did to you last night?"

"Fuuuuck.... Fine. Ummmm, you know how, ummm, you like it when I, ummmmph.... When I growl and snarl and snuffle against you? How you like it when I play, ummmm, wild?"

"Yeah, I do.... I do like that."

"Well, ummmm, Persephone, I dreamed that, well, in my dream, our-roles-were-reversed."

Her eyes went wide under his embarrassed grimace.

"Ooooooohhhhhhhhh...."

He held his breath. Waiting for the fallout. Gods, he was such a dirty old man, how in the cosmos could she bear to look at him?!"

"Haaaades." His name a sighing caress from her lips; his dick jumped at the sound. "That sounds like fun."

.....

...........

.................

"really?"

"Yes, Hades. I think I'd like to do that for you...."

"Yeah? Oh, Persephone, can we, ummm, now? Bedroom?" He didn't even try to keep the pleading whine out of his voice. Why fight it? He was at her mercy....

"Sure. You go on in there. Turn out all the lights, and lay down on the bed." As she spoke each command, she turned herself to face him, crouching on the couch cushions on her knees and hands, tilting her head slowly from side to side, her lips pulling back, revealing her teeth. "Don't undress, just lay down. In the dark. And wait for me." Like a snake or a hunting cat, she wove closer and closer to him with every syllable, until finally she lunged forward, teeth nipping at the corner of his jaw as a soft snarling breath hissed past her lips. 

He jumped to his feet, breath hitching in his throat as his pants pulled tight over him. "Shit, yes."

He almost ran to the bedroom, a breathless laugh bubbling in his trembling chest. 

He dodged around the door, pushing it behind him so that it was nearly closed, but not entirely. His hand slapped flat against the wall and dragged downward, slamming the switches down, plunging the dark navy and charcoal black colors of the room into night. His long legs carried him to the bed, and he turned and dramatically fell backward onto the bed, small blue and pink petals left over from the night before flying into the air as his weight hit the cloth. He let the laugh finally tumble out of him, as he closed his eyes, the dream playing behind his lids again. 

Why had he even worried?

Persephone let him do all manner of things to her every day. Every night. He coaxed and prodded and wheedled her wants and desires out of her, and he met them all, grateful beyond words that she matched him so well. They usually liked the same things. He knew she liked when he played _wild_ like this with her; soft growls and snarls rumbling from his chest while he nipped at her skin and clawed his hands down her body. 

Why wouldn't she want to reciprocate?

Oh Fates, he was so ready for this. 

Where was she?

"Persephone?"

His voice dropped like stones in the darkness of the room. 

"Persephone, love, I'm in the bedroom. I'm laying on the bed, like you wanted."

The door creaked slightly as a breath of air from the vents in the hall pushed against it. 

"Maybe she's brushing her teeth? But her toothbrush is in the bathroom here?" He glanced at the closed door of the en-suite. "Did I scare her off? Crap." 

Thrashing his torso up off the bed, he started to scootch his bottom across the sheets. He was gonna go find her, tell her he was sorry he was such a creep. He knew this had been a bad idea.

A soft snarl ripped through the air. He froze. It seemed to be coming from the corner by the armoire.

"Persephone...?"

A softer growl, just a hint of a rumbling sound, fluttered through the darkness. 

Her voice was pitched low, the breathy tone turning husky, commanding. Possessive.

_Wild._

"Lay. Back. Down."

His eyes rolled back in his head as he forced his body to obey. However, his cock defied the order, tenting straight up away from his hips beneath his pants. He started fumbling for the buttons, aching for release.

"Hands. Down."

"craaaaap...."

He laid his hands at his sides, flat against the bed. 

He heard soft footsteps, barely heard them, padding, stalking, closer to the bed. 

"Aidoneus...." The subtle thrum she rolled into her voice had him panting, muscles vibrating under the strain of light strokes of fear, hard pulses of excitement, and the delicious anticipation of not knowing how she had done this. "You should be more careful where you leave your tools...."

"το κράνος μου...." The realization left him breathless. She would not be visible to him until she chose to be. He more at her mercy than he could have ever dreamed.

Than he had dreamed last night....

"Absolutely-" A light scrape of a fingernail against the outside of his right leg, just below the knee, along the swell of his calf muscle. "-anyone-" He shivered as the nail was joined by two more as it crept onto his thigh, shifting over the top and creeping into the space between his thighs. "-could take it." The phantom hand clawed across the fabric over his erection, and his hips jerked up from the bed as he spasmed.

He felt the breath _whoosh_ out of him as suddenly a weight pounced on his body. He felt her plush ass settle decisively over his waist, trapping his throbbing dick against the curves and valleys of her warmth. Pinprick nails claimed his chest, one over his heart, the other a little lower on the other side, one point of pain just below the nipple, the others fitting into the grooves between his ribs. He sucked in a huge breath, his eyes wide in the dark, knowing he couldn't see her no matter how he tried but unable to resist the instinct. He started the raise his hands from the mattress, fully intending to _see_ her by touch if he had to, but the sharp little pains from her nails stung with a sudden increase in pressure. 

A loud, vicious sounding snarl ripped from her lips. 

"Hands. Down."

He closed his eyes in submission, embracing the spikes of pain on his chest and the throbbing at his hips as pleasure coursed through him.

"Lover, I'm gonna make you squirm...."

The sharp points of her nails left his chest, and he grimaced as he felt the wanting to have them back. Claiming him. Marking him. 

But then her hips rolled once, agonizingly slow, against his. He gritted his teeth at the friction, straining not to buck into her warmth. 

"I'm gonna make you crave my touch...."

Her teeth nipped at his throat, and he swallowed convulsively as adrenaline spiked through him. She rolled against him again, and this time he couldn't stop the small lift of his hips as she ground into him. 

"And before we're done...."

His head rolled against the mattress, eyes still closed, as she clawed trails of fire down his torso. The buttons on his shirt tore open, unable to resist her insistence anymore than he could. His back arched his chest into the touch, lifting his hips and pressing her weight onto her hands as she raked him, nearly tore him, with her nails like claws....

"You're gonna scream my name."

He felt her weight leave his hips as her body surged forward. Teeth, lips, tongue, the edges of the plates of metal around her face: all began torturing him in an ecstasy of sensation as she feasted on the skin of his neck, his lips, his shoulders, the muscles on his chest. He felt the tell-tale tingle whenever she traced one of his scars, the hyper-sensitive nerve-endings lighting up under her touch. 

Trapped in the pleasure, his mind retreated to the memory of the first time she had begged him to let her worship his scars. He'd never let anyone specifically focus on them, instead convincing his partners (and himself) that they were dead tokens of a terrible trauma, and had no meaning, no weight, in his life now. But somehow, instinctively, she'd known they could be more. 

His Queen had shown him the pleasure his trust could give. 

Having ignored them for so long, he had nearly fainted at the jolt of lightning-like pleasure from her first caress to one on his chest. The nerves, starved for so long, were sensitive beyond thought, beyond coherent speech. It wasn't so bad under his clothes on an everyday basis; the signals from the rest of his skin overrode the hypersensitivity of the scars. Which is why he'd never known.... Had never thought to wonder....

But Persephone, intuitive, perceptive, compassionate Persephone, had brought them back to life, rewriting the memories and nightmares with bliss and world-rending pleasure. 

However, right now, she was being careful not to overexcite those delicate lines, opting instead to only give him fleeting tastes of that delicious ecstasy. 

He began squirming under her carefully-executed assault. 

She rewarded him with another grinding roll of her hips before she moved lower, gripping his hips with unseen hands curled into talons as she got into position between his trembling legs. 

He froze as she began picking apart the buttons, then drawing the zipper lower, slowly, soooo slowly. 

Then he thrashed against the sheets, arms flailing and legs kicking out as she took fistfuls of his waistbands - slacks and boxers both - and ripped them down, fingernails scraping as she did. He saw the shadow of his clothes flung across the room before she pounced on him again, smashing him into the mattress and pinning him in place to stop his thrashing. 

Now that he was nearly naked - shirt ripped open and lower body bared to every touch - he realized through the haze of lust that she, though invisible, was still clothed in fabric. He could feel it as she rolled her warm pelvis against his twitching cock. 

"Sweetness, _please_...."

Her voice still holding that breathy edge of a growl, she rolled against him again. "What did I tell you I was gonna do to you, Aidoneus?"

Racking his brain, frantically, he tried to remember. "Um, you said, you were gonna make me, um, squirm?"

"Aaaaand...?"

_whatelsewhatelsewhatelse?!_ "Make me, oh fates, crave your touch?"

"mmmmmhmmmmmm...." She purred as she gently traced fingernails over his chest again, never on the same lines from any of her previous passes. He wondered incoherently if he would have dark streaks, scrapes, from her possession of his body....

"Oooooh, help me, fuuuuck, I can't remember the last one...!"

He felt cool air slam over him as her body disappeared from his. His eyes snapped open: they'd rolled shut under the onslaught of sensation from her, and he held his breath as he realized she had to be standing over him. Her feet sunk, unseen, into the mattress beside his waist. 

He felt a subtle shift of weight, but he didn't have a clue what she was doing. 

The she slowly was revealed, materializing out of the darkness as she slowly pried the helmet from her head. Her hair, which had grown out about a foot from her passion, cascaded from the hollow of the metal shell: a warrior goddess, glistening with sweat and ardor, glowing in the dark of her chosen realm. He shuddered out a breath, lost in gazing upon her, reveling in the miracle that was his wife. 

His Queen.

His. For all time. 

She tossed the helmet against the wall; he barely even heard the _clang_ of the impact, the rattle as it rolled to rest on the floor somewhere. 

Her hands curled into claws again, and she ran them down her own body. The tense lines of her fingers pushed, pulled, shoved, the curves of her breasts, the little rolls on her waist, the mounds of her hips; then she began to float above him, her hair rising in the currents of air as she hovered upright before his prone form. 

She twisted at the waist, sliding her shorts over the swell of her butt and down her thick thighs, finally giving a kick that spun her in a circle in the air to send the too-small pile of cloth careening into the darkness. She stopped her spin, facing away from him, so he couldn't see her breasts as she ripped the skin-tight shirt over her head. He could just barely see the edges of those large pillows bouncing back down into place, until her hair washed back down over her shoulders, hiding the supple curves from view behind waves of petal-filled magenta strands.

Slowly, her entire body spun in the air, like a bauble hanging from a ceiling during the winter solstice. Each inch of glowing skin revealed had his jaw dropping further open, his body melting into the mattress as his cock swelled even more, twitching, pulsing in the cool air of the dark room. 

"Do you remember it yet...?"

"Gods, no, please...."

"I told you I was gonna make you scream my name."

She rushed back to him, hair flying out behind her as she all but crashed into his chest. Snarls and rumbling purrs ripped through the room as she ravished his face, neck, chest with her mouth and hands. 

Her snarls and rumbling purrs weren't the only ones he heard.

Dimly, he knew that they were acting like beasts; they were so tangled up in each other, it took him a moment to even realize she was still on top of him. 

He almost fainted when she suddenly sunk onto him, rolling her hips expertly so his length slid into her without the need for either of their hands to guide him. 

She slowed down her assault on his neck, her lips brushing back and forth over the spot she'd been nipping and licking, as he came back to awareness under her. 

She chuckled a little as his eyes fluttered open, pupils black wells of passion as they stared into hers, only the thinnest line of red around them showing her how close he was to losing control. The little red line thickened as her chuckle wiggled her body against his, stirring him further from his melting stupor. 

"Fuck me, my King. Fuck me until you scream my name."

A vicious snarl tore from his throat as he lunged into her kiss. His hips jolted up into her, thighs smacking against her butt, and she gasped in mixed pain and pleasure as he shifted his feet for leverage. She let him take over, feeling herself melting down, down, down, heat and desire pooled for an explosion in her core. 

He panted against her open mouth, breath steaming between them as he chased his climax. 

She felt the tip of his cock deep inside her twitch, and she knew he was nearly undone. She slammed her hips down on his, the shock forcing his feet from their positions, the breath he sucked into his chest rushing like a winter storm from the mountains. 

"PERSEPHONE, GODS!"

He spilled into her depths, hips futilely bucking as she rolled upon him, riding through the waves of her own climax. Her own gasping screams matched his moaning pants, and with a final jerking thrust, he collapsed beneath her. 

She slowly bent from the waist, bringing her body down over his, caressing, gently petting every inch of him within her trembling reach.

"Hades, you alive in there?"

His eyes fluttered as he tried to hold them open, tried to focus on her.

"Yeah, sweetness."

"Wild enough for you?"

A huffing laugh was her only answer. 

She was just feeling warm waves of sleep stealing over her when he whispered something. She raised her heavy head, asked him to repeat it.

She felt a smile break over her face at the words he mouthed in her direction, nearly silently.

"Wilder than my wildest dream...."

**Author's Note:**

> The Greek text - το κράνος μου - is basically, "My helmet." Exact translation is "The helmet of mine." Pronunciation is "To kranos mou" (toe crannos mow, as best I can interpret from Duolingo pronunciation lessons).
> 
> Hope you liked it!
> 
> One final note:
> 
> Myself and other fanfic writers have recently been made aware that some readers of the canon (and fics based upon the canon) of Lore Olympus believe that Rachel is “stealing” ideas from us.
> 
> Allow me to be blunt:
> 
> Nothing could be less true.
> 
> Any similarity between my works of fanfiction (and those of other fic-writers) and the Lore Olympus canon is due to the authors’ use of common source material, in the form of Greek myths, as well as being a devoted superfan and paying attention to Rachel’s carefully-placed and exquisitely-crafted details. Any time there is an overlap of plot, even to the point of a single iota or detail, it is only due to coincidence or careful work on the fanfic author’s part.
> 
> When these details show up in canon, the fanfic authors - myself included - feel nothing but joy upon having guessed correctly.
> 
> All of this to say - fanfiction is fiction-produced-by-fans-for-fan-consumption-from-an-overabundance-of-fandom-love. No one is stealing anything from anyone.
> 
> Ever and always, the characters, settings, specifics of plot, and details of design all are borrowed temporarily from Rachel Smythe for my work herein as a fanfiction creator. I hope you've enjoyed, and thank you for playing, once more, in my headspace....
> 
> -Swoonie, 30 March 2020


End file.
